


The Hunt

by Lexa



Series: Owed to Friends [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4930870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexa/pseuds/Lexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strider was sent to guard Frodo from others. But must he guard himself from Frodo?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luvxander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvxander/gifts).



Strider marked the arrival of the four hobbits into the common room of The Prancing Pony. Though he had been expecting only two.  And he had not expected to be himself noticed so soon.

He sat in the shadows from habit and watched as they sat down. When he felt himself to be observed, he glanced up to see the innkeeper talking to Frodo. About him, that much was obvious. 

He had intended to watch them from a distance and await the arrival of Gandalf. But that was forced to change when Master Frodo disappeared in front of everyone. 

He went to the stairs, depending on more on his intuition than his tracking skills that Frodo would end up there. And indeed, there reappeared the hobbit. Strider didn't bother to see if they were observed before grabbing Frodo and forcing him up the stairs. 

He threw him into the room a bit more forcefully than was necessary in his haste. He looked out into the corridor before closing the door, then went to the window. No sign.

When he turned back to Frodo, for an instant he saw a look he could not readily name. But it was replaced by fear at his words. “Not scared enough.”

It was then the other hobbits burst in.

Later that night, after the Nazgul realized they had been deceived, it took some time for the hobbits to settle back to sleep. Strider kept watch out the window. His hand went to his sword as he felt a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Strider. For saving us.” Frodo stood close to the chair, that look returned to his eyes. 

“You are not safe yet, Master Frodo. It is best you get some sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

There was a moment where Strider thought Frodo would say more to him. Then the moment passed and the hobbit returned to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

With the need to leave Bree and not being able to wait for Gandalf, Strider did not dwell on the look that had been on Frodo's face. It was not til after the two days' journey from Bree that anything happened to make him remember.

The hobbits were hardy, to be sure. But their persistent love of meals proved bothersome so early in the journey. They had a taste of the danger before them, but Strider worried more would show itself before too long.

He left them by the small fire as he searched for any signs that they had been followed, and also in search of food that could be carried with them. They were fairly safe, camped in a small hollow that hid the fire from view.

When he returned, they were all asleep, save Frodo. He was staring into the fire as he poked at it. But when he glanced up at Strider's return, there again was the look.

“You should sleep. We have some distance yet and no way of knowing how far behind us the Nazgul are.”

“I wanted to wait for you.”

“You were safe. I would not have left if I had doubts of that.”

“I know. Thank you, Strider.”

Strider bowed his head in acknowledgment, then set about dressing the small game he had found. He would cook them tonight and they would serve as a cold supper for tomorrow. He also had some berries. It would be best not to count on always being able to have a fire.

He knew of the hobbits' reputation for quiet movement, but still was surprised that he did not hear Frodo drawing closer til he looked up to find their faces mere inches apart. From so close, it was clear at last what the look meant.

“Thank you, Strider.”

Frozen with surprise, Strider could do nothing to stop Frodo pressing his lips to his own. There was a moment where he could feel Frodo's tongue seeking entrance into his mouth. Then came the light touch of nimble fingers along the length of his member, followed by a tug at his belt.

“Frodo.” Strider pulled back, his hand grabbing at the hobbit's.

“We have a long journey, Strider. I can wait. I will wait.” There was a quick press of the lips, then Frodo returned to the other side of the fire. He looked at Strider as he wrapped his cloak around himself, then laid down with the others and closed his eyes.

Strider took a long breath, then forced his attention back on the game and on keeping watch.


	3. Chapter 3

With their arrival at Rivendell, Strider had thought his duty done. But at the Council of Elrond, he knew he must continue to guard Frodo and the One Ring. And hoped that the increased number of the company would deter Frodo.

A hope that proved to be for naught mere days after, as they journeyed to the mountains. He was not on watch and had laid down a little way from the others in case something should come from that direction. He made a quick bed of leaves to cushion his sleep, wincing as their quiet rustling caused Legolas to investigate. A smirk was on his face as he returned to his watch.

With others to now share responsibilities, sleep came hard and fast to Strider. So it was with disorientation that he awoke at the feel of hands on him, causing him to just open his eyes instead of attacking.

It was Frodo, not a thief or enemy. Frodo pulling at his clothes and laying him bare to the cool of the night. His hiss made the hobbit look up at him. “Shh, you'll wake them.”

Strider could not tell how long he had slept or if Legolas was still on watch. If he was, any movement of Strider's on the leaves would mean discovery. How Frodo had managed to escape detection was a wonder.

So he could only lie there as Frodo's hands moved over his skin. As more and more of him was exposed. And to bite back a cry as his length was taken into a hot mouth. He fought to keep his breathing quiet and still a body that wanted to arch up. A hand that twitched to force Frodo away, or was it to pull him closer?

His eyes shut as the torment continued. The need to remain quiet increased each sensation, every touch. For Frodo's hands were as busy as his mouth. Stroking, soothing, squeezing. At last his release was torn from him, leaving him spent and gasping.

He was only half aware of the hands setting his clothes and himself to rights. Of a last lingering touch and kiss to his member before sliding into sleep. 

The next thing he knew was the brightness of the morning and the laughter of Legolas at his late awaking.


	4. Chapter 4

All were in mourning with the loss of Gandalf. The remaining Fellowship traveled as if in a daze for the rest of that day and into the next. By the time they reached Lothlorien they had recovered their senses but the pain remained.

Before the piercing gaze of Galadriel, Strider dwelt on that loss, and on his love for the granddaughter of the one before him. Whether that great lady saw anything else, she did not say.

With their gifts and the new sense of purpose, they left Lothlorien and traveled the water ways. Their camp that first night was uncertain but necessary.

This time, it was during his watch that Frodo came to him. He was circling the camp, focusing for signs of the enemy. He heard a sound and approached, his hand on his sword. Only to find the hobbit, sitting on a boulder.

“I did not really think we would lose someone. Especially not Gandalf. I thought, I thought the journey would be the hardest part. Not that-”

“It is hard to conceive of such things. They must be experienced, and the lesson learned hard. Frodo, you should return to the camp. We are less safe then ever before.”

“I know. That is why I am here. Because I have learned that lesson.” He stood and walked over to Strider. 

Strider took a step back. “Frodo, do not. My heart-”

“I do not ask for your heart, Strider. Just-” He took the step. “Please? Give this to me. Before I lose any more.”

The look was there, but mixed with sorrow. Strider's hand went up to the necklace around his neck. With a silent prayer, he took it off and placed it in his bag. Then he reached for Frodo's hand and led him upriver. 

There he let Frodo take control. Let himself be pushed onto the moss and accepted the eager mouth at his. Granted the searching tongue entrance and returned its attentions. Shivered as once again his clothing was pushed aside and the wind caressed his skin. Caresses that were mimicked by hot breath. 

The flowing of the river masked his quiet groans and sighs as Frodo's hands and mouth once again moved over him. Groans and sighs swallowed by needy kisses. And then the loud gasp as he was once again swallowed.

He rested his hands on Frodo's head, his fingers gripping the soft hair now and again. His breathing became ragged as his fight now was to delay his release, to prolong this moment.

A gasp escaped him as Frodo pulled back, leaving the wind to wrap around his wet member. He blinked away a blurred vision to see the hobbit pulling at his own clothes, then moving to crouch over him.

“Frodo?” Half disbelieving, he watched as Frodo took hold of his length and pressed it toward his entrance. A sound of protest turned into a smothered cry as he was quickly encircled, the pressure almost enough to end him there. Then came the short, fast strokings. Frodo's legs gripped his hips as his nails left trails in his skin. 

Strider gazed upward, his vision darkening as his breathing grew louder to his ears. Frodo was now out of reach, so his hands grabbed at the moss, pulling at it. His fingers were soon clawing at the ground.

The sensations grew upon each other as he took leave of his senses. For an eternity and for a scant moment, he was felt as if he were suspended over an abyss, unable to move. Then a hard squeeze ripped that away and he was falling, teeth at his hand to keep in the scream.

The night went black before slowing returning into view. The sound of the river reached his ears, then the feel of the small body on top of his. Only after a couple of attempts was he able to bring his arms up to hold onto Frodo. They lay like that for an untold time, unable to move further.

“Frodo?” His voice came out as a rasp, dry and harsh.

“Thank you, Strider. Thank you.”

Finally they forced themselves to separate and dress. An uncertain look from Strider was met by a smiling one of Frodo's. A last, lingering kiss was shared, then they headed back toward camp. 

A step in front of them brought one hand to Strider's sword as the other pushed Frodo behind him. A step that revealed itself as belonging to Boromir.

“Where have you been? You were to wake me for my watch.”

“Forgive me, Boromir. I meant to but-”

“It was my fault. I had a dream and went to find Strider, to speak of it. It was of the Lady Galadriel.”

“Yes, the Lady Galadriel.” Boromir's tone softened and grew quieter, his gaze turning inward. A shiver ran thru him and he returned his attention to them. “All was quiet then?”

“Yes. I circled the area. I could not see anything.”

“Sleep then. I will wake the dwarf at the night's darkest.” With a lingering gaze at Frodo, Boromir took his leave.

The two continued onto camp and laid on opposite sides of the fire. It was long before either slept.

As they journeyed, Frodo asked Strider what laid ahead. The look was back and a smile came at the naming of the ruins of Amon Hen.


End file.
